they say that decisions are made when one gets too emotional about something. i say, we're just being humans. the inescapable reality mandates us to be followers of a drifting life. and the funny thing is, everything we do - when we talk, when we cry, when we are with our better half, when you crash down on a predicament, when people care about other people, when pen meets paper, when writer comes across enlightenment, when actors are on a performance level, when subtlety turns into sarcasm - all these are punchlines of what we are.

we sometimes make sense, and we do find our purpose, but something in us would always say "don't brag about it, you havent seen the denouement to all of these, the rest is yet to come." so with this scenario, having fate on oneself through cliches and quotes can never be crime. though it sometimes sound a little out-of-context, when one seeks happiness from senseless things, it is but humanistic freedom. simply put, no person can tell superman when not to fly, and charlie crocker when not to do the italian job. because this is what makes us senseful.

cliches, quotes, and bandwagons, superman and charlie crocker, in the end we can all be like william wallace. and that's my cliche.

they say that decisions are made when one gets too emotional about something. i say, we're just being humans. the inescapable reality mandates us to be followers of a drifting life. and the funny thing is, everything we do - when we talk, when we cry, when we are with our better half, when you crash down on a predicament, when people care about other people, when pen meets paper, when writer comes across enlightenment, when actors are on a performance level, when subtlety turns into sarcasm - all these are punchlines of what we are.

we sometimes make sense, and we do find our purpose, but something in us would always say "don't brag about it, you havent seen the denouement to all of these, the rest is yet to come." so with this scenario, having fate on oneself through cliches and quotes can never be crime. though it sometimes sound a little out-of-context, when one seeks happiness from senseless things, it is but humanistic freedom. simply put, no person can tell superman when not to fly, and charlie crocker when not to do the italian job. because this is what makes us senseful.

cliches, quotes, and bandwagons, superman and charlie crocker, in the end we can all be like william wallace. and that's my cliche.

"If you don't take risks, you'll have a wasted soul."

Wasted is actually a very proper way of describing it. Taking risks makes it all complicated.

Don't let the expression confuse coz there is nothing confusing about it. The quotation marks do not even contribute anything to it, except for signifying the fact that it was borrowed from an article of that same context.

My Date with Drew was the one movie that i never expected would exist. Not one of my working consciousness anticipated something even close to that kind. It was like, when it hits you, it hits you hard.

Laugh if you may. i know it sounds corny to learn my lessons from a movie - the substance of which is partly fictional, and some are within the dimensions of subtle reality clouded with conflicts and probability. yes, laugh if you may, and i still pride myself with my sense of reasoning. while some are into bragging, and boasting off, and speaking of the senseless shits, i do what my personality would dictate me to do.

i guess for me to stand by your perspective (and become your abused, unpaid, and mistreated untouchable), a little confession has to take place. lately, my blogs were all about this and that, what i have and what i have not, and what people deserve and what other people deserve from me. i tried to be poetic, but it becomes vague. i made the effort to make sense out of everything, and i ended up eating out my own shit.

to take risks is to find your own definition.

let the world know that the same credo that inspired My Date with Drew will become my driving force, my little encouragement, and my own tiny optimistic voice.

and this time, i shall not take it all back.

It's Always a 300mph Race

For one, i kinda wanted to slip into the unknown. But it would never make any sense, would it? The overdrive of it all seems inevitable, shifting gears as it curves from one checkpoint of realization to another. we can always get the front row seats.

get used to it. a 300mph race may make you seem like a sitting lame duck; virtually it doesn't even look like you're moving. the price of being such is everything - sacrificial tendencies, melodramatic endeavours, and a far-fetched excuse to being pragmatic. yes, it sounds paradoxically unfair. but all these lead you to realization - the kind that can only come or happen when a person initiates what is known as intuition. and intuition makes this a 300mph race, complete with a v10 engine, 50,000rpms, and a head-slashing override down the curve. and those who are not used to it either become mere spectators or unknowing bystandersm, asking, wondering, and trying to make sense out of it. so, in such resilient symbollism, where or what are you in it? the spectator or the dreamer?

it's always a 300mph race. you're the driver, and the world gives a damn.

Something is not missing. But something, obviously, is losing in me. That's being fair. I try as much as possible to sugarcoat but at one point it feels unrewarding how one decides to settle things in the most unreasonable way. Well, that's as far as i can see it.

To talk about the fact that life is unreasonable is a story; to smudge oneself with stupidity is another. To sometimes think that you can never deserve anything is pure absolution to misery; to set aside one's personality in exchange of the unknowingness is sweet soul oblivion.

Starting today, as best as i can, i shall never speak of this language of failure, but rather, i shall utter words of reasons. Because in the abyss of my contemplation is a hidden rationality - i dug deep, and i found myself lying under an oak tree in the middle of a grassland, as winds try to sweep away the memories of the long-forgotten, the miseries of the ever-forgotten, and the lure of the should-have-forgotten. as the clean-cut grass (such symbollism is apparently from the inevitale context of this absolution) sways with the eerie moment, a leaf from the oak tree falls on my feet, then came another, and the whole bunch of it just fell. as i lie there, oblivious of the phenomenon happening right in front of me. then it just hit me - of the what, how, and why kind. it just hit me.

i start walking, mindless where thy feet shall lead me. i came upon a seedling, desperate to keep standing still as the wind and the inevitable conspire. there i am - sitting beside the seedling, trying to keep him (it) company. i called it oak junior; he called me none.

there i am, learning my lessons from this oak tree (which will eventually become like one, someday, somehow).

and the grassland was still green. but this time, things are now different.

you can't trust a mere intuition. and never a gut feeling. it always is about trying to reason out something. other than that, it is pure foolishness. a kid who has already learned how to ride on a bike can never look back where he came from, no matter how painful a falldown is, no matter how gut-wrenching a crossroad is. some say it's human nature. it is known in the reasoning world as stupidity. so, why, oh why, does a person who has had a fair share of the many downs of this so-called life, suddenly become unbearing of the eventuality, and not care if the world laughs at him, and people figuratively would put a "loser" label on his forehead?

the simple answer to a seemingly misleading question is this - _____________. a blank in the myriad of transitions. that's the closest thing you can get to an answer.

but, a coin has two sides - the obvious and the reticent. we see what's within; we hate what's inside.

forgive me, if all of a sudden, this unassumed me, becomes an enlightened one. who could ever forgive such mindless bullock talking about the context of a failure turned victory?

it used to be that this unassumed me (sorry, can't help it) always complain about the fact that i can't get what most people crave for, and can't seem to deserve what i think is rightly for me. so, i ask for you to forgive me, if i may use such vague words.

this blog is not a burst of the unwanted, miseries, and the misfortunes. it is a valued understatement to life.

the only thing i can complain about now is the fact that i can't seem to open myself up to the rewards life can possibly offer. hesitation, skepticism, underestimating oneself - i can never be your superman; i am always your kryptonite. for such nature of me being a kryptonite gives what most people can't - honesty and just being real. total bullocks, but not in my language. it is me, as it is you.

there. that's a devil's advocate. help me shake it off.

Why can't the world be a "it is" instead of the usual "if, what if"?

and they say life is unfair. or the way it seems, life can never be fair. think of this as the infinite oblivion that life is designed for.

we always crave for the 'if," yet there is no clear assurance to every endeavour of that kind. and still no matter how bitter reality is, the assumed "achiever" inside of us gets to be more encouraged, as failures pile up one after another. it's becoming enigmatic, almost uncontrolled. like when a fruit it about to depart from its branch - the only way is down. only down. if at any point it goes either left of right, i'm willing to bet my nickel and dimes and tell the world the one thing i've been dying to say (of course, that can only happen if such scenario i have just mentioned takes place). dying is a crime, saying is another. dying to say can be double murder. but i will take my chances. why should i? that is improper. why should i not? that's more pragmatic.

the what ifs are as grueling and reason-busting as the ifs. some try to forecast, others do it by risks. they can't help but take risks. when a chance passes by, grab it. coz if u will not, the buttcheek of opportunity is the closest thing you can get to it. a sudden leap of brain cells, telling you to go ahead - it's fine, grab it, even it feels painful, you can...i mean...at least you tried, thats the more important thing. reality checks: even what ifs use two sides of a coin. you flip the first, you get tails. you flip for another, you get the head. flip for the third time, either the head or tails will appear. does that enlighten you? i do hope so. it's always a frantic cycle. some win, others lose. a few emerge victorious, others weep and go home. a person wins, a loser cries. the clown gets to joke. the underestimated gets the last laugh. it's always a consolation, you know, what life has to offer. it always is. a consolation is up for grabs.

but as they always say, you gotta get out and dive on the cornfields, if ur desiderata is a turkey on a plate. you can never get such luxury if u stand on a corner, write hate notes on the wall, and create caricatures of urself struggling to find the true definition of common sense.

allow urself to get dirty, shake off what's left of the pain, and head to another hill.

the world can never be an "it is" world. look on the bright side: you're still alive. isn't that enough reason to move on?

like how one advertisement goes - people live with lists. and mine is no exemption from this. items, objects, names, places, ideas (including wants, needs, and mostly wants). all these work within the idea of a categorical approach. it works well, at some point. so, we cut the crap, and move on.

category list number 1 :: the things we do to get out of trouble

1. don't do anything.
2. in case you want to, never make it obvious.
3. if it does become obvious, cover with your own subtlety.
4. keep away from expectations - they are the devils inside your nutshell.
5. don't plan - it fails.
6. avoid confronting with yourself - he's a nemesis.
7. losers, at the end of every failure, usually say "it's okay, at least im glad i did something." do you wanna be one of them?
8. and lastly, you are what you are - get used to it.

antithesis: you. you're the only antithesis this world has known. so, the whole humanity is begging, try not to be you.

just a friendly reminder.

POV: third person omniscient. in case you need to know.

i dunno. they say persistence is always a good thing - the impossible becomes possible. the mystery becomes an open-air gossip. and the unknown turns into "quickshare" idea, spreading like a bushfire. the best of course is when one unrewarded individual becomes the luckiest man alive - an instant fate winner in a flick of a finger.

heed my own intuition. remove the sugar coating. let go of your altered metaphoric point of view. when are you going to learn your lessons? such a question seems improper for (in) an unburst of uncontrolled fiery melodramatic human feelings. you're supposed to make the transition; never stay on one spot, and wait for the inevitable failure to come. move on. bounce back. step on the next trip to total translation. at least, try not to be a bogged down human being.

supposed reality isn't reality at all, do you hear me say "no problem"? that could be unlikely. supposed imagination is as big as my reasoning, do you see me doing something about it? still, no hint of being a celebrated human endeavour. stop. take turns. you're looking at a loyalty with dreams at work. admission is free. let the world stand by me and say "you suck." so i can tell myself "don't rub it." or maybe telling myself "i really suck; thanks for reminding me" is a more appropriate thing. thanks for the word, too. thanks for the sarcasm. i deserve better. or worse of your melted impressionistic view.

pushing down until it pushes back, and see shit happening in front of you - that could be a well-deserved conclusion.